Page 68 of Omega's Fever

“I can.” Kellen moves then, slow and deliberate, until he’s between me and Kenneth. “You’re in my home, disrespecting my mate. Leave. Now.”

My home. My mate. The words send heat spiraling through me, settling low and urgent. I press a hand to my stomach again, where our child grows. Where everything has changed.

Kenneth looks at me over Kellen’s shoulder. There’s fury in his eyes. “Milo, if you stay with this man, you’re going to wind up dead. You need to walk away.”

“I want to be happy,” I interrupt. “It’s a prime match, uncle. I don’t want to give him up and I’m not going to”

For a moment, rage crosses his face. Then the mask slams back into place, harder than before. “Fine. It is on your head. We are done. I can’t look out for you if you’re going to be so stupid.”

Look out for me? I’m an adult. I’ve had enough of him treating me like a child.

“Get out.”

He shakes his head, but leaves without another word, the door closing with a definitive click. Kellen locks it, checks it twice, then turns to face me.

“You okay?”

I consider the question. My uncle just disowned me, essentially. My career is hanging by a thread. I’m pregnant with a baby that shouldn’t be possible. And I’m falling in love with a man who might spend the rest of his life in prison.

“Yeah,” I say, and mean it. “I’m okay.”

He studies my face, then nods. I step closer, close enough to feel his heat. To breathe him in. “Kellen?”

“Yeah?”

“Claim me.”

The words hang between us, heavy with meaning. His pupils dilate, and I can see the moment he processes what I’m asking. What I’m offering.

“Milo—”

“I’m sure.” I reach up, frame his face with my hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Claim me. Make me yours.”

His control snaps.

One moment I’m standing there, the next I’m pressed against the wall, his mouth hot and desperate on mine. I moan into the kiss, hands fisting in his shirt, trying to get closer. Always closer.

“Bedroom,” he growls against my lips.

“No.” I nip at his jaw, drunk on the taste of him. “Here. Now.”

He pulls back enough to meet my eyes, and what I see there makes my knees weak. Desire, yes, but also something deeper. Something that matches the feeling building in my chest.

“You deserve better than—”

I silence him with another kiss. “I deserve you. Just you.”

He lifts me then, easy as breathing, and I wrap my legs around his waist. The wall is cold against my back, but he’s furnace-hot against my front, and I’m burning, burning.

When he sets me down on the couch, there’s a reverence in his touch that undoes me. He undresses me slowly, carefully, like I’m something precious. Something worth savoring.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to every inch of revealed skin. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Yours,” I agree, arching into his touch. “Always yours.”

He takes his time, working me open with fingers and tongueuntil I’m mindless with need. Only then does he press inside, slow and careful, watching my face for any sign of discomfort.

“Perfect,” he breathes, when he’s fully seated. “Fuck, Milo. You’re perfect.”